We Built This City
by allfallingdown
Summary: The Shepard Gang is known for getting into trouble around Tulsa. While they're tough on the streets, they're really just kids and it's Tim's job to take care of his guys. Will contain the spanking of minors.
1. The Boys of Summer

Chapter 1 - The Boys of Summer

Summary: The Shepard Gang is known for getting into trouble around Tulsa. This fic follows their many antics and Tim Shepard's attempts to keep them in line. Will contain the spanking of minors.

"The fuck happened to you two?" Tim sounded more confused than annoyed, which was always a good thing.

"Fuckin' Brumly Boys were acting like jackasses. Didn't like it when we told them that." Jesse lied easily. Curly just let him do the talking. He was always better at bullshitting Tim, in fact, at fourteen he was better at most things.

Tim rolled his eyes, getting up from where he'd been watching tv with his sister and Mikey, who was looking at them all nervously. "Alright, let's get you guys cleaned up." Tim said, eyeing them up and down, taking in their bruised faces and busted lips.

"You boys should try not to start shit with those guys. They got no problem pulling blades on someone without one." The gang leader lectured as he took the teens to the only bathroom at the Shepard's house.

"We know, but it's hard not to when they start running their mouths." Jesse shrugged, looking much more collected than Curly felt.

"You boys run your mouths all the damn time and I don't jump you." Tim snorted, pouring some disinfectant on a rag and holding it against the cut that was under Jesse's eye. That cut had come from a blade one of the Brumly goons had pulled on them when they showed up without all the smack sold. Curly, Jesse, and Mikey had been selling the shit on the side for the Brumly Boys, but the other gang had been giving them more and more to sell. They only ever sold a little bit at school or to known users, so they didn't have a huge client base for it, making it hard to sell larger amounts. What had started out as some quick cash had turned into a full on gig pretty quickly, something that none of the boys really wanted to be involved in. They had to keep what they were doing on the serious downlow, not wanting the rest of their gang to find out. Tim would flip his lid, and they couldn't trust that the other guys wouldn't tell him if they caught wind of it.

Their gang was pretty tight knit, being the only family most of the boys really had. Tim was their clear leader, there was never any disputing that. He was the eldest at twenty-one and he made sure everyone knew he was in charge. He'd been the boss since they were all young and that wasn't gonna change anytime soon.

Curly was his hard headed, fifteen year old brother. He was one of the younger members, a fact that no one let him forget. He wasn't his brother's second in command, that role went to Alexander Quincy, a quiet nineteen year old. He could use a blade better than anyone in Tulsa and he knew it too. Alex's family was pretty big, he was the youngest with four older sisters. Curly always liked being around him, they had some sort of youngest sibling solidarity, so Alex never really treated him like a kid.

Tommy Kelly was seventeen and had practically lived at the Shepard house all his life. He was their next door neighbor and had it pretty bad at home. The spare room at the Shepard's was unofficially dubbed his bedroom and had been since elementary school.

The youngest member of their gang was Jesse Anderson. He was smart, although you wouldn't know it by looking at his school report cards. He knew how to get under everyone's skin. It was like he could see what would piss you off from just one glance, then he'd go right on ahead and do whatever it was. Curly's pretty sure Tim spends half his time trying to knock some sense into the boy's head via his ass.

Jesse's cousin, Adam Mitchell, was sixteen. Like his cousin, he was a smartass, although he had learned to keep his mouth shut when it counts. His mother worked street corners, but if you ever mentioned it in front of him he'd break your nose.

Mikey was fifteen and the shyest of the group. If Michael Harrison hadn't been born a hood, he'd probably be a doctor or some fancy shit like that. Tim always swore that he was gonna make sure Mikey finishes college if it's the last thing he does.

Justin O'Reilley was their last gang member, unless you count Angela, which Curly refuses too. Justin's sixteen and he's got an eight year old brother, Max, who's a real brat. He walks on water in Tim's eyes, pain in the ass kid can't do anything wrong. Their parents died a few years back so their uncle moved in to look after them, although he ain't really done much besides drink half the booze in the whole damn city.

For the guys, the gang wasn't about what people expected, pulling dumb stunts or any shit like that. They were brothers and that's what counted.

"You want me to deal with Bruce?" Tim offered, looking a little pissed about the obvious wounds from blades on his boys. Bruce was the leader of the Brumly Boys and the asshole running the dealing operation.

"No!" Curly said way too quickly. Tim looked at his suspiciously while Jesse shot him a glare. "I mean, we can handle shit ourselves, Tim. You don't gotta baby us." He added hastily.

"Clearly you can't handle shit if you're gonna come home lookin' like this." Tim frowned. "If it happens again, I'm having a chat with Brucie." Curly and Jesse exchanged looks, both silently vowing to not let Tim know if this does happen again.

Tim left the bathroom, leaving the boys to finish washing up. A few moments later, Mikey came in, shutting the door and looking at them warily. "Does he suspect anything?"

"Nah, we fight with those clowns enough that this ain't too out of the ordinary." Jesse shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

Mikey looked visibly relieved. "What the hell happened anyway? Why'd they fuck you up?"

"Bruce and his guys were pissed we hadn't sold all the shit. It's their own fuckin' fault though. How the fuck are we supposed to keep selling double what we did last week when we gotta keep what we're doing from half the city?" Curly grumbled, washing his face off in the sink.

"I don't like this, guys. I don't wanna keep sneaking around and selling more smack and getting our asses kicked by those dicks." Mikey ran a hand over his face, looking pretty nauseous.

"It's too fuckin' late for that. We can't just back out now, they'd kill us." Jesse sighed. "Besides, we're making good money."

"We're barely even making shit, they take most of the cash." Curly complained.

"Well something is better than nothing." Jesse scowled. "Look, the only way out is to go crying to Tim and I'm not itching to do that. Are you?" Both Curly and Mikey immediately shook their heads. No one wanted to experience that ass kicking.

"Boys! Quit dicking around and come have dinner." Tim hollered from the other side of the house.

The three of them rushed to the kitchen. You never wanted to be the last one there because then you had to sit on the shitty lawn chair. They didn't have enough kitchen chairs at the table, since Tommy and Adam broke one of them when they were younger, so the last one to the table has to sit on the mismatched lawn chair they took from some neighbors yard years ago.

The boys took their seats, grinning when Justin and his kid brother, Max, came in late. Justin had to sit on the crappy chair as Max made a run for the chair next to Tim's. "Don't you think Tommy or Ads should have to sit here since it's their fault we don't have a normal one?" Justin complained.

"Quit whining. Whoever takes the longest when I call sits there, so listen better next time." Tim smirked slightly. Lucky bastard was just happy because his chair was practically reserved for him.

Angela put the food on the table, quickly stepping back after as the frenzy of teenage boys attacked it. "What do you say to Angel?" Tim reminded the guys, trying to glare some manners into them.

"Thanks, Angela." Said a chorus of boys trying to talk with food in their mouths. Curly never really liked his sister hanging around with the gang that much. Mostly because she always babied him. Being a year older at sixteen, she acted like she was his damn mother. But the girl could cook, and without her they'd all be eating Alex's burnt pasta or some other gross shit.

"Dude, what happened to your face?" Tommy asked, poking Curly's bruised cheek. The Shepard smacked his hand away, scowling.

"Nothin'. What happened to your ugly face?" He shot back. Tommy rolled his eyes, looking towards Tim, who was busy helping Max cut up his food, despite the kid being perfectly capable of doing it his damn self.

"They got into it with the Brumly's." Tim explained.

"Those guys are such dicks. I heard they've been selling smack and shit around town." Adam said while flicking a pea at Justin's head. Curly, Jesse, and Mikey all froze, each looking at each other in terror, but trying to act casual about it.

"Where'd you hear that?" Tim asked, looking up now.

Adam shrugged. "Some guys at school were talkin' about it. Dallas Winston mentioned it too. Said Darry Curtis doesn't want his guys fuckin' around near their turf now."

Tim gave the gang a hard look. "If that shit's true, then you boys better stay away from there too. Clear?" He looked right at the two cut and bruised up boys.

They all muttered some form of 'yes', although no one looked too happy about it. The Brumly Boy's turf has one of the best greaser bars in the city.

"I'm serious. I hear any one of you went there and your ass is mine." Tim said firmly. "We don't fuck with smack."

"What's smack?" Max asked, tugging on Tim's shirt sleeve.

"It's what you'll get if you go near that old factory district." The old warehouses were the base of all Brumly related operations.

Max wrinkled his nose. "That place smells, who would wanna go there?" Kid was right, it always smelled like garbage around there. Not nearly as nice as the Shepard's alleys or the Curtis' park.

The conversation drifted back to their usual discussions of shit like girls and parties and dumb crap they'd gotten into that day. Curly caught Tim eyeing him and Jesse a few times, which was pretty panic inducing. The last thing they needed was him figuring out what they've been up to. Towards the end of dinner, he worried that Tim was gonna wanna talk to the two of them again. The younger boys looked relieved when an argument between Justin and Tommy turned physical, knocking a bunch of shit off the counters. Tim turned his attention to yelling at them, giving the two of them and Mikey enough time to leave the table and head out of the house, calling over their shoulders that they were going to hang out at Mike's. They needed to figure out a way out of this mess without letting Tim know what they'd gotten themselves into.


	2. Anyway You Want It

Chapter 2 - Anyway You Want It

"Are you having fun?" Justin had to yell to be heard over the loud music. Him and Dallas Winston were at a party in the Brumly Boys' territory. They weren't supposed to be there, both teens' gang leaders had forbidden it. But they'd been told that it was going to be a great night. Not to mention Sylvia and Allie were supposed to be there. Dallas had a constant on again off again thing with Sylvia that Justin wouldn't even begin to try and understand. And Justin had had a crush on Allie for years.

Only problem was the girls hadn't showed. Which left the two hoods out late in a part of town they weren't supposed to step foot in, at a party that was definitely not worth the hassle.

"You wanna go or something?" Dallas finally asked, looking like he desperately hoped the answer was yes.

Justin nodded, relieved to not have to be the one to chicken out. "Yeah, let's do something more fun."

Both boys headed out of the overcrowded house, Justin wrinkling his nose when someone threw up near him. Yeah, definitely not a great party.

"Hey, is that Tim's car?" Dallas asked once they were standing on the lawn.

Justin felt his stomach drop hearing those words. He looked over and sure enough, parked on the street was Tim's truck. "Fuck, it is." he mumbled. "Let's get out of here."

"Not so fast." A hand fell on both of their shoulders. Justin gulped before turning around to look at the pissed off face of Tim Shepard. Tim had been tipped off that the boys were at the party by his friend Buck, who he'd told to be on the lookout for any of his or Darry's gang members in the Brumly turf.

"Who wants to explain what the fuck you guys are doing here?" Tim looked between the two of them. "No one?" He said when neither seemed forthcoming with an answer. "Fine, I'm sure Dallas will be explaining tonight's events to Darry. And you and me," he gestured to Justin, "Will be having a long talk later."

With that, he snagged both boys' upper arms, taking them to his car.

* * *

After dropping Dallas off at the Curtis', Justin was left alone in the car with his pissed off gang leader. Tim was clutching the steering wheel so tight you could see the whites of his knuckles protruding.

"Tim-" Justin attempted to placate the man, but was immediately silenced.

"Don't. Don't start." Tim's jaw was set in a hard line. Great, Justin thought, this was gonna go over spectacularly.

"But-"

"Unless the next thing out of your mouth is 'pull over I'm dying', you'd better shut it." Justin rolled his eyes at the order.

Tim evidently did not have the same rules about shutting up because he began to rant at the teen. "Have you lost your mind, kid? I specifically said yesterday that you boys were not allowed anywhere near those fucking warehouses. And less than twenty-four hours later, you're going to a party hosted by the goddamn Brumly Boys!"

Justin sunk down in his seat, leaning his head on the car window. "Quit hollerin' at me…" he grumbled.

"Excuse me? Boy, I'm gonna do a helluva lot more than holler real soon. I can't believe you would be so damn stupid."

"Shut up! I'm not stupid!" Justin sat up, glaring heatedly at him.

"Well you're sure as fuck not a genius!" Tim slammed his hand on the steering wheel before taking a deep breath. He paused for a moment, clearly attempting to calm down.

"Look, Justin, you can't just do whatever the hell you want. You know that." Tim gave him a frustrated look. "I can't have you disobeying me every chance you get. We've had this talk too many times to count."

Justin felt his chest get tight, a lump in his throat proving nearly impossible to swallow. "So, what, you want me out then?" Had he fucked up too many times now? He fought with Tim more than any of the other guys, even Curly, and he was his pain in the ass brother. He'd always been a little worried that one day he'd mess up so bad that Tim would have an excuse to get rid of him. He figured the only reason it hadn't happened yet was that Tim loves his kid brother Max a lot, but maybe he'd keep Max around and make Justin leave the gang.

"Want you out? Why do you always assume I'm trying to get rid of you, dumbass?" Tim pulled up to the Shepard house, but didn't turn off or unlock the car quite yet.

"Why wouldn't you want me out? I don't listen, I get on your nerves, and we fight all the fuckin' time." It seemed pretty clear to Justin that he shouldn't be wanted.

"You don't get on my nerves anymore than anyone else in this damn gang. I mean, you're a hard headed little shit, which is why we fight, but you're not any worse than Angela or Jesse. And they're not going anywhere." Tim turned to the kid. "Yeah, you don't listen too great, but that's why I'm here. To kick your ass when you don't listen to me, not to kick you out." He ran a reassuring hand through the teen's hair. "Now come on," he nodded his head towards the house, "Let's go in."

Tim turned the car off and got out. Justin, albeit reluctantly, followed the man into the home. Tim led him inside where Max and Curly were watching some dumb movie.

"Bed, both of you." Tim ordered.

"What? Come on, it's not even midnight." Curly complained, not looking up from the movie.

"Charles, I'm not in the mood, get to bed." Tim went over, flipping the television off.

Curly sighed, realizing his brother was already pretty pissed if he was pulling out the full name card. "Fine, whatever." He huffed, heading up to his room. He had to get ready for later tonight with Jesse and Michael anyway. The three of them had plans to go confront the Brumly guys and say that they want out of the dealing game.

"You go to bed too, Max." Tim said to the unmoving eight year old.

"Is Justin in trouble?" The little boy asked, taking in the pissed off leader and nervous looking teen. "Are you gonna spank his butt?"

"Jesus, mind your own fuckin' business you nosy little freak." Justin exclaimed, scowling while Tim tried to fight back a smile and keep a stern expression.

Tim gave the boy a disapproving look. "Max, we don't ask about that, right?" Max pouted a little, but nodded. "Alright, then go to bed." Tim ruffled his hair as the boy ran upstairs. Each gang member had laid claim to a bed in the house, since they spent plenty of their nights at there.

Tim turned his attention back to Justin, who was hovering by the couch, looking like he wanted to bolt out the door.

"Do we need to go over why what you did was wrong, or do you get how disobeying me to go somewhere forbidden is against the rules?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

"I get it." Justin mumbled, looking at the floor.

Tim nodded, sitting on the couch. "Good, then get over here." Justin shuffled over, standing in front of his leader. "Drop them." Tim gestured to his jeans.

"Aww, come on, Tim," Justin whined, blushing with embarrassment, "Can't I keep them up?"

"Not a chance, now do what you were told." Tim stood firm. He never understood why the boys always got so embarrassed about this. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and it certainly won't be the last, they should be expecting the order at this point.

Justin bit his lip, undoing his jeans and shoving them down, leaving his boxers up. He quickly bent over Tim's lap, folding his arms on the couch cushion and burying his face in them.

"Tim! Don't!" He whined when the adult pulled his underwear down.

"Don't argue with me, Justin." Tim started spanking the teen, causing him to squirm and make small yelping sounds.

"Do I make rules just to hear myself talk?" Tim began his irritating line of questioning.

"Yes…" Justin grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Tim swatted his sit spots a few times.

"No! I said no!" Justin quickly changed his statement.

"That's what I thought." Tim resumed his normal swats. "Did you understand me when I said you weren't allowed at the warehouses?"

Justin rolled his eyes, thankful that the Shepard couldn't see him. "Yeah, I understood."

"So you chose to actively disobey me?" Tim always liked them to admit that they were in the wrong, it was the worst.

"Obviously!" Justin winced as Tim's hand landed on an already sensitive spot.

"The Brumly territory is off limits for a reason. You boys don't need to be around that sort of shit that they're dealing with." Tim hated drugs, a fact that his gang was very aware of. The Shepard siblings' mother was a drug addict, which Tim blamed her shitty parenting, or lack thereof, on.

"There weren't drugs at the party!" Justin wasn't sure if that was actually true, he may have just not seen any, but he'd say anything to get away from his burning ass at this point.

Tim scoffed. "That you know of. And even if there weren't any, I still don't want you around dealers." He aimed a barrage of smacks at Justin's thighs, causing the boy to kick his legs and holler. "Are you going to go near the Brumly turf again?"

"No! I won't, I promise!" Justin had started crying at this point. "I'm sorry!"

Tim finished up with another couple hard swats before stopping. He rubbed the boy's back while the kid laid over his lap, calming his crying.

Justin stood up after a minute, fixing his pants and trying to surreptitiously wipe his teary eyes. He stood in front of Tim, hesitant and sniffling.

"Oh, honey, come here." Tim tugged the boy onto his lap, holding him tight while the kid sobbed.

"I'm sorry… I'll listen, I promise!" Justin cried hard into Tim's shirt, soaking it with tears. "Please don't make me leave!"

"Make you leave? Justin, we went over this, you're stuck with me and this gang. No one's ever gonna make you leave." Tim soothed, kissing his forehead.

"But I'm always being bad…" Justin whimpered.

"No you're not. And even if you were, it just means I spend a little more time a day giving my hand a workout on your ass." Tim teased, wiping at the boy's cheeks with his thumbs. "You're worth losing some free time over."

* * *

At The Curtis house, Dallas sat on the couch while being given a seemingly never ending lecture.

"Does the shit I say to you just go in one ear and out the other, Dallas?" Darry paced back and forth irately in front of the teen. "Did you not understand me when I said no going to the Brumly territory or did you just think that you were above the rules in this family?"

Dallas scoffed, arms crossed, the perfect picture of an insolent kid. "I'm not part of whatever family you're talkin' about."

"No? You really still think you're not in this family? After years of practically living here, answering to my parents and now to me, you still believe you aren't in this damn family?"

Dallas shrugged, unwilling to meet the man's eyes.

"Are you stupid or just playing dumb then, boy? Because you know goddamn well that you are expected to do as I say, as a _member of this family_." Darry pointed a finger at him. Dallas was always struck by how much the man looked like his father when he was scolding someone.

"I'm not stupid." Dallas spat out. "But I don't need to listen when your rules are bullshit. For fucks sake, I've been going down there since I was in elementary school, ain't nothing gonna happen."

"They haven't been selling smack since elementary school, Dally. I've told you countless times that I don't want you near that shit. None of you boys need that sort of influence, least of all you."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dallas stood up, heated at the implication that he was somehow more likely to do something like smack.

"Don't think I don't know you've been selling grass at school. I don't like you doing that crap, let alone having anything to do with something worse."

Dallas felt a mix of nerves and annoyance hearing that Darry new he'd been selling pot to some classmates. It wasn't much, just a little to some rich kids he could easily overcharge. "Who the fuck narked on me?" He was gonna fuck up whoever it was real good.

"No one had to nark, you're not nearly as sly as you think you are. You think I can't smell it on your clothes when I do the damn laundry? I'm not dumb, Dallas, and you should know by now that I care enough to notice this shit."

"Whatever, a little grass is nothing. Just some pocket money. And going to a party ain't the end of the fuckin' world." Dallas huffed, turning to look out the window, not wanting Darry to see how worried he was that the man was going to be furious with him. Or worse, give up on him.

Darry reached out, turning the sixteen year old's chin to look at him. "You're right, some grass isn't a big deal. But you know what is? Other harder shit. And I won't have you getting involved in that. So it may not be the end of the world to go to some party or sell a little pot, but it's damn sure gonna be the end of your world for awhile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dallas asked, looking at his leader wearily as the adult sat down on the couch.

"You know exactly what it means. You're getting your ass whooped and then your spending the next week here, grounded." Darry said evenly, expecting an explosion after that statement. He was not left disappointed.

"Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are?" Dallas clenched his fists, ready to put up a fight.

"I think I'm the guy who's about to spank your sorry ass." Darry kept calm, not rising to the teen's anger, which only infuriated Dallas more.

"You're not my fuckin' father, Darry. You're not even your own father." It was a low blow, and Dallas knew it. Mr. Curtis was the only person who'd ever truly been able to reign Dally in. Darry had stepped up with all the guys and was trying to fulfill his dad's role as disciplinarian, but they were big shoes to walk in.

"You wanna bring him into this? What the hell do you think he would say if you had pulled this shit with him? He wouldn't have even been having this talk with you right now, you would've been over his knee the second he found out about this stunt." Darry kept his own temper in check. The last thing Dallas needed right now was someone to bicker with.

Dallas felt himself losing his righteous anger, biting his lip and looking away. "Doesn't matter what he woulda done because he's not here."

"But I'm here. And I'm not gonna let you get yourself into trouble like this." Darry's voice took on that same hard age Darrel Sr.'s always had before Dallas got his ass tanned.

Dallas scoffed. "Awfully bold to assume you can stop me, Superman."

"I know I can stop you. Because if you pull this shit again, I'm gonna make what's about to happen look like a couple of love taps." With that, Darry snagged Dally's wrist, pulling the teen over his lap.

"Fuck, Darry, lemme up." Dallas complained, making a feeble attempt to get up from his compromising position. He would never actually fight tooth and nail over this, partly because Darry was stronger and partly because he cared too much about the other guy's opinion.

"Not a chance, you know you earned this." Darry swatted him a few times, infuriating Dallas even more.

"Fuck you, I didn't earn shit! I can go to any goddamn party I want to, I don't need to ask your fuckin' permission." Dallas hollered.

"You just never know when to shut up, kid." Darry shook his head, reaching under the boy and unzipping his jeans, yanking them and his boxers down.

"No! Don't do that!" Dallas' yelling had turned more desperate as he felt a breeze on his bare ass. Darry ignored him, of course, starting to rain down smacks once more.

It was silent at first, as Darry set a fire on Dally's ass. Then, he began to talk, Dallas' least favorite part. He was already whooping him, did he really have to try and hold a conversation at the same time?

"You don't get to disobey me, Dallas. Especially when it comes to a rule made for your safety." Darry lectured, his voice stern and hand impossibly hard. Dallas scoffed, squirming a bit as his backside was heated up.

"I'm serious, when I tell you not to go somewhere I don't say it to just be an asshole. It's because there's something dangerous there." Darry tilted Dallas forward, aiming the spanks at his thighs.

Dallas whimpered, biting hard on his bottom lip to stop himself from really crying out. "Darry, I've had enough, stop being such a dick." He managed to growl out between clenched teeth.

Darry rolled his eyes. "Hardly." Dallas was stubborn and liked to throw insults, hoping that would somehow get him up faster. Very flawed logic.

Dallas tossed his hand back after another few moments, wanting to shield his poor defenseless backside.

"Move that hand." Darry ordered, smacking the teen's sit spots harder a few times.

"Oh come on, not fair!" Dallas yelped, quickly removing his hand. Stupid Darry never played fair.

After another round of what felt like harder smacks- but at this point he couldn't really tell- Dallas began to sniffle, tears falling down his cheeks. "Alright, I'm sorry!" he finally exclaimed.

Darry was relieved. Dallas only ever apologized when he was really ready to be done, he wasn't like Pony or Soda who just throughout half hearted apologies the second they got a stern look.

Darry stopped his attack on the teen's ass, fixing Dallas' pants. "Alright, hey, it's alright." He said softly, lifting him up to sit on his lap.

Dallas immediately latched onto Darry's shirt, crying into his neck. "That hurt!" he sounded accusing.

"I know, kiddo, kinda the point." Darry smiled slightly, kissing the side of his head. "You mad about it?"

"No… but my ass is mad at you." Dallas sniffled, fiddling absentmindedly with Darry's shirt buttons. "You mad at me?"

"Course not, you know I don't stay mad." Darry chuckled, stroking his back. "Maybe we should get you changed into pajamas and go to bed?" Those jeans couldn't be comfortable on a sore ass.

Dallas instantly rejected that idea, shaking his head. "Comfy here." he burrowed himself further into Darry's chest as if to prove that point.

Darry smiled fondly. "Alright, we'll stay here."

* * *

"The fuck are you idiots goin'?" Angela's voice asked, barely above a whisper. It was nearly three in the morning and no one wanted to wake Tim up. He was pretty pissy when someone was noisy after he went to bed.

Curly, Jesse, and Mikey jumped from where they were halfway through the kitchen to the backdoor, turning around to see Angela standing in the doorway to the hall. "Uh, we're just going outside for… Wait, where are you going?" Curly raised his eyebrow, noting his sisters nice dress, makeup, and heels.

"I asked you first." Angela said defensively.

"We're just going to a party." Jesse lied. "Now you spill."

"I got a date." Angela narrowed her eyes. "I'm stayin' the night with him, so I need to know you aren't gonna be little snitches."

"Won't tell if you won't?" Curly suggested eagerly. He couldn't care less who his sister was screwing that week, so long as he got off scot-free.

The corner of Angela's lips quirked up. "Deal." She looked around once more, ensuring that Tim wasn't there, and then pushed passed them, heading out the door.

The boys followed soon after, quietly shutting the door behind them. They had to go down to talk to Bruce and his gang of goons. They needed out of this selling smack shit before they got caught.


	3. Come on Eileen

Hey all! Sorry this took so long to get posted. Things have been hectic, but this is extra long to make it up to all of you!

* * *

"Tim's gonna kill us if he finds out we came here." Mikey looked around at the old abandoned warehouses they were near. They were in the Brumly Boys' territory, one of the only places they were never supposed to go.

"Tim finding out we came here is the least of our worries if we get caught. He'll be a little too preoccupied with the drug dealing shit to care about us sneaking out." Jesse rolled his eyes, looking far less nervous than he probably should. The Brumly Boys area was full of addicts and other crazy homeless people. Not somewhere someone should look comfortable strolling down the street. But Jesse looked cool and collected no matter what he was doing for the most part. Curly was always a little jealous of the fourteen year old. He reminded him of Tim, that air of uncaring superiority. Like nothing could touch him. Curly felt nervous about shit constantly, and he was terrible at hiding it.

"Look, we're just gonna tell them we're done and go home. And that'll be the end of it all." Curly said, hoping he sounded more sure than he felt. Him and Jesse had tried telling them once before that they wanted out, and instead they'd gotten their asses kicked by some of the goons in the gang. But this time they were gonna talk to Bruce, the leader of the Brumly Boys. If the man saw they wanted out and that they were gonna refuse to do it anymore, he'd have to let them off the hook, right?

The guys arrived at the base of the Brumly operations. It was a large warehouse that smelt like piss and fish, which was weird since they were nowhere near the ocean. The piss smell was less weird and more to be expected from a place looking like it hadn't been occupied by anyone but druggies and tramps in decades.

"What do you want?" Was their greeting by Gabe Wilkens, one of the Brumly goons who'd knocked them around last time they were there. Gabe was the kinda guy you could look at and know that he tortured neighborhood cats as a kid.

Jesse stepped forward as their ambassador, smiling in what seemed to be an attempt at friendliness, although it was clearly lost on Gabe. "We came to talk to Bruce."

"Not around. So fuck off." Gabe said shortly, going back to loading a crate of what the guys could only assume was smack. Great, more product to sell.

"We can wait for him to get back." Jesse said, shrugging like they had all the time in the world. In reality, they had to be back home soon or else Tim could wake up and realize they were gone.

Gabe clearly didn't like the idea of them hanging around, practically snarling at them like a rabid dog. "You'll get out if you know what's good for ya."

"What? We can sell your shit but you won't let us be in the gorgeous warehouse where all the magic happens?" Jesse smirked. Mikey elbowed him, trying to get the other teen to shut the fuck up.

"Get the fuck out before we make you." Gabe nodded at the other two guys milling around the warehouse. He hadn't pulled a blade yet, and Curly wanted to get out of there before he did.

"Jess, let's just come back tomorrow." Curly said quietly to the other teen, who immediately shook his head. Stubborn little brat. Tim always said Jesse would argue with God Himself one day and get his ass kicked out of Heaven, still yelling that he was right.

"I'm not gonna be scared off by this jackass."

"The fuck did you just call me?" And Gabe's blade came out. Honestly, Mikey and Curly were just happy it wasn't a damn gun. Tim woulda been so mad if they got shot. They aren't even supposed to look at heaters, let alone get into a fight using one. Tim keeps one in the house, for protection, but the boys aren't supposed to touch it. Angela and Curly once did when they were younger and he just about skinned them alive for it.

Mikey stepped forward, shoving Jesse behind him, the younger boy looking ready to keep running his mouth. "He didn't mean it, Gabe. He's just a dumbass kid." Mikey said, Jesse looking affronted by that. Curly couldn't tell which he didn't like, being a called a dumbass or a kid. "We just wanna talk to Bruce. We don't want any trouble." Curly marveled at how steady Mike was able to keep his voice despite being clearly terrified.

Before Gabe could stab them or tell them to get lost, which is clearly what he wanted to say, another figure stepped into their view, coming from the backdoor. "Who's askin' for me?" Bruce asked, walking towards them, just as large and looming as ever.

* * *

Angela sat cross legged on the shitty motel bed that she was trying very hard not to think too much about. She didn't wanna know who had done what there before her. The random stains on the sheets were concerning, but if you didn't look at them, you could pretend they weren't there.

She licked her rolling paper, finishing making the joint. Soda Curtis came over to her, laying beside her on the bed. "You got it to work?" He asked, handing her the lighter. The paper had gotten wet in the rain the other day, making it harder to roll.

"Yeah, I got it workin'." She brought it to her mouth, lighting and inhaling. "Told you I could roll with anything."

Soda grinned, taking a drag when she passed it to him. "Why'd you wanna meet up here anyway?" He asked.

She raised an eyebrow, looking close to laughing. "I mean, obviously you wanna do _that_ , but why in the motel?" Soda clarified, blushing up to the tips of his ears. Angela always thought it was cute how embarrassed he got. They had been sneaking around for a few weeks now, and she could still make him get all flustered.

"Isn't it hotter? Being in a gross motel?" She leaned close to him, their noses almost brushing.

"I don't know what sort of weird shit you're into, Angel, but my definition of hot doesn't involve getting bed bugs." He teased.

Angela laughed, sitting up and snatching the joint back from him to take a hit. "You're fine, princess, you won't get fleas. Besides, we gotta come here if we wanna do anything a little R rated. You know our brothers would be up our asses if we went back to one of our places. We'd never get to have some alone time."

Soda reached over, tugging her closer so she was practically laying on top of him. "And what rated R fun did you have in mind?"

Angela grinned, "If I have to answer that, then you might be a little too innocent for what I have planned."

* * *

"Bruce, didn't expect you back so soon." Gabe's tone of voice immediately changed from hardened alpha to weak little mouse. Bruce would have that effect on anyone though. He was tall and broad shouldered, which was already intimidating for Curly and Jesse, who were relatively small. Mikey was taller, but didn't have even close to the muscles that Bruce did. Tim and Darry Curtis were roughly the same size as him, but Bruce was meaner and wilder than they'd ever been. Whereas most people had freckles or dimples, The Brumly Boys' leader had a scarred up face that even a mother couldn't love. It looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a chainsaw at some point and just barely won.

Bruce ignored his now meek employee in favor of staring at the three teens. Curly, Mikey, and Jesse for their part were feeling far less confident about their mission now that they were faced with Bruce himself. "The fuck do you want?" The leader asked them, his yellowed teeth glinting in the light.

"We need to talk about our deal." Curly stepped forward, not wanting Jesse to take the lead and get them into trouble.

"What's there to talk about?" Curly couldn't tell if Bruce was annoyed or if he always had a twinge of irritation in his tone.

"We want out." He struggled to keep his voice even while saying this, not wanting to let their forcible employer know how scared he was.

Bruce seemed to consider this while pulling a cigarettes out of his front pocket. He put it to his lips, Gabe practically tripping over himself to give the man a light. "No." He finally said after taking a long drag.

"No?" Curly had assumed there would be at least a little back and forth on this, not a flat out no.

"No." Bruce repeated, tossing the butt of his smoke on the ground, not bothering to stomp it out.

The Shepard gang members exchanged looks, not sure what to do. Curly cleared his throat before trying to say in his firmest voice, "Look, you don't get it, we're done. Out. Not working for you anymore."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, taking slow steps forward until he as standing toe to toe with Curly. "Is that so?"

Curly tried not to let Bruce see him sweat, but he really didn't like their close proximity. "Dude, we can't keep this shit up. Someone's gonna catch on to what's going on soon enough."

"You threatening me, Shepard? You gonna nark?" Curly immediately shook his head, not liking the way Bruce's hand twitched towards his blade.

"No, we wouldn't do that. But it ain't easy to keep this quiet when you're making us sell more and more shit." Curly attempted to reason.

"You'll sell as much as I say you'll fuckin' sell." Bruce said, giving him a malicious grin. He took a step back before nodding at the door. "Now get out."

"Now wait a minute-" Jesse started to interject before being quickly shushed by Mikey.

"Let's just go, it's no use." Mikey said softly to his friends. Jesse looked ready to protest some more, but Curly shook his head at him as well. Mikey was right, there was no arguing with Bruce.

Jesse reluctantly followed Curly and Mikey towards the exit before Bruce's voice stopped them.

"One last thing." Curly turned to see what the man wanted, a baggie coming flying towards him. He caught it, looking at the package of what appeared to be smack. "You guys get to sell another twenty grams this week."

* * *

When Soda Curtis dropped her off at her house, it was around five in the morning. The early morning sun was just starting to rise and their street was relatively peaceful, save for some annoying;y chipper birds. Angela wished for a second that she could just stay outside in the peace because once she got inside, life was going to get anything but peaceful for her. Tim was sure to be up by now, his job at the construction site starting around seven. He may not have noticed her absence yet, but there was gonna be no sneaking by him to her room. In fact, she'd be surprised if he hadn't already spotted her standing out on their lawn.

Squaring her shoulders to look braver than she felt, Angela unlocked their front door and made her way inside the house.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." Tim said from where he was seated on the living room couch, clearly having been waiting up for her. He stood up, dressed for work already, minus the tool belt. And Angela was fairly certain he'd forgone that part because it would dig into her side while she when she's over his lap hollering. She briefly wondered if Curly, Mikey, and Jesse had made it home in time to not get caught. Glancing at Tim's hand, it didn't look red and there weren't any frozen peas in sight. So it was pretty safe to assume the boys had made it back in time and weren't sleeping on their stomachs.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, young lady?" Oh shit, he was pissed. He hardly ever pulled the freaking 'young lady' card. If she got called 'missy' next then she was 100% toast.

"I think it's five." Angela answered, still standing by the door, wanting to keep the distance between them maximized.

"Yeah, it's five in the morning. A time that you're supposed to be asleep at. Where the hell have you been all night, missy?" Oh shit, there it was. She should order the tombstone now because she was dead.

"I was out with some friends." Angela tried to minimize the damage done. If he thought she was just out with her girls, he'd be pissed, but he wouldn't keep her locked in a tower for the next decade.

"Who?" Tim was clearly suspicious, and why wouldn't he be when she came home dressed in her best (sexiest) outfit with a face of makeup. She should've brought a change of clothes and washed her face off.

"Just some girls from school Tim, you don't know them."

"I know everyone. Who are they?"

"You don't know them." It was a standoff, both of them knowing what she was really doing, neither wanting to be the first to say the words.

"Angela Renee, were you with a guy?" Tim was the first to give and asked her the question that he already knew the answer to.

"So what if I was?" She tilted her chin up, radiating defiance. "I'm a big girl, I can hang out with guys."

"Hanging out and doing what I'm sure you two did are very different things." Tim ran a hand over his face, looking pale and nauseous.

Angela rolled her eyes, taking her shoes- high heels that Tim eyed wearily- off and cautiously coming further into the room. "I'm not a child Tim. I can make my own choices about boys."

"You are a child! You're sixteen, Angie. I won't have you gettin' yourself knocked up because you fooled around with some lowlife jackass."

"He's not a lowlife and I'm not gonna get knocked up." She looked just as angry as he did. "You never talk to Curly, or any of the guys, like this when they go out with girls. You don't care if they date. Do you just care because I'm a girl or do you really think I'm so stupid I can't make smart decisions?"

"I don't think you're stupid, but what you did tonight was pretty dumb." Tim said, blatantly avoiding the fact that it was also because she's a girl.

"Well I wouldna had to sneak around tonight if you would let me make my own choices about guys during the day."

"You can make your own choices when you make good ones. And fooling around god knows where, at ass o'clock in the morning, behind my back is not a good choice." Tim closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, looking like he had a headache. "Who's the guy?"

"Soda Curtis." Angela said, hoping she didn't just get her boyfriend killed by saying his name.

Tim's eyes opened, raising a brow at her. "Well fuck Angie, Soda's not a lowlife. Why were you sneaking around?"

Angela furrowed her brow in confusion. "You haven't liked any of the guys I've tried to date. Why would I think this is gonna be any different?"

"The other guys you dated were creeps. You know I like the Curtis guys. I ain't gonna kill him for wanting to date you." Angela looked hopeful until Tim added, "I might have to kill him for doing whatever the fuck you did dressed like that, though."

"Timmy, we didn't do nothing bad. We just hung out and talked." It was a lie and they both knew it, but for the sake of Tim's sanity, he looked ready to accept it.

"Fine, even if you were just talking, you still shouldna snuck outta the house." Angela groaned, knowing what was coming when Tim pointed towards towards her bedroom, just off of the living room. "Alright, let's get this done."

Angela followed him into her room, the nicest and biggest in the house- her compensation for living in a house full of guys. Tim took a seat on her bed, gesturing for her to come stand at his side. She stepped forward, sighing in resigned irritation when she was pulled over his lap.

Tim flipped the skirt of her dress up, starting to spank her on her underwear. Angela squirmed around, but otherwise gave no outward indication this was bothering her. She was stubborn and on several occasions her stubbornness had nearly outlasted Tim's hand.

"You can't just leave like that, Angela, you had me worried." Tim lectured, knowing that scolding her was the fastest way to elicit a desired response. "I don't like not knowing where one of you is."

"Nothing bad happened." Angela grumbled, wincing as the force of the spanks increased.

"But I didn't know that. I didn't know where you were and that's not okay." Tim insisted, finally gaining at least a nod from Angela.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left." she admitted, voice sounding strained like she was fighting back tears.

"That's good, thank you." Tim accepted the apology, but continued the onslaught on her ass.

Angela finally burst into tears a few minutes in, which Tim was thankful for since his hand was aching. He stopped and fixed her dress before lifting her up to sit on his lap. He held her tight while she calmed herself down, mascara smudging her face and getting on his shirt front. He grimaced, knowing he'd have to go to work with that on his clothes as he didn't have another clean shirt he could wear to a construction site.

"There's not gonna be anymore sneaking around, right?" Tim asked, kissing her hair.

Angela nodded, wiping her tear stained face on his shirt. "As long as you're okay with me seeing him, I won't have to sneak around."

"I don't love you dating anyone, but he's a good guy. And I do trust you, Angel. I know you can make smart choices for yourself." Tim grinned, wiping one of her tears away with his thumb. "God knows you make a helluva lots smarter choices than Curls 99% of the time."

Once her tears had sufficiently died down, Tim stood her up. "Alright, you should get changed. You've got school in a couple hours." He grinned, leaving the room and ignoring her claims of being too sore to go to school that day.

* * *

Max was by far the best third grader at the monkey bars. He could do them all twice before his friends could count to a hundred, which admittedly, they weren't great at counting that high so it took them some time. When the teachers weren't looking, he liked to climb up to sit on the top of them, then jump off.

Today was one of the days where he was doing that. The boring recess monitors were busy. They were trying to stop some of the other kids from eating worms on the other side of the playground, which was so childish. He hadn't eaten worms since he was a little second grader.

Max climbed up to the highest part of the bars, jumping off with ease and doing a little somersault on the ground after. His friends always liked it when he did cool stuff like that.

He turned his head when he heard applauding, groaning when he saw the group of girls watching them. There were four of them, each super annoying. Karen Baker, who cries over literally everything. She cried for hours the other day because someone stepped on her shoe and got it a little muddy. Janet Warren who's the weirdest person on the entire Earth. She usually spends all of recess pretending to be a freaking cat. What kind of a game even is that? How is it fun? Max would never understand. Then there's Linda Martin. All that girl can talk about is horses! Max doubts she's ever even seen one, Tulsa being a city and all, but she won't stop talking about all the damn ponies she'll have one day. It was always Rainbow Sparkles this and Golden Dancer that. He wanted to die anytime he had to talk to her.

The last girl, the one clapping the hardest, was Molly Dolen. Max just thought she was gross. He didn't really believe that girls have cooties, but if they do, Molly was definitely contaminated. She was always chewing on her hair, making it all gross and constantly wet on the end. And she was always following him around. Her and Linda wouldn't leave him and his best friend Samuel alone. They always insisted on playing whatever game the boys were playing, and they'd go run and tattle to the teacher whenever the boy wouldn't let them. Max's brother Justin always says the worst thing you can do is nark on someone.

"You jumped so high, Max!" Molly was practically gushing, twirling her gross hair around in her fingers. Max wrinkled his nose, trying to stand as far away from her as he could despite her constantly creeping closer to him.

"Can you jump like that, Sammy?" Linda asked, ignoring Max in favor of his friend who was sitting underneath the monkey bars.

"It's Sam not Sammy." Sam sounded annoyed since he had to always correct her about that.

Linda giggled, which Max hated because no one had said anything funny. Why were girls always laughing at dumb crap? They're so weird. "Let's go play somewhere else, guys." Max said when it became clear the girls weren't going anywhere. He hated having to leave his monkey bars, but the girls got their gross germs all over it now.

Max and his friends started wandering over to the slides or something that wasn't overpopulated with little girls. But sure enough, Molly and her dumb friends followed after them.

"Sammy, do you wanna see a drawing I did of a horse?" Linda was harassing Sam with some pictures in her notebook that was covered in horse stickers.

Max tried to walk ahead, to get away from hearing Linda's annoying voice, but Molly followed, right beside him. "Max, will you teach me to jump off the monkey bars like you?" She asked, not seeming to notice when he tried to walk faster than her.

"No, you'll just get hurt and I'll get in trouble." The last thing he needed was to be responsible for her being dumb and breaking her arm or something. She'd go crying to the teacher that Max pushed her or some crap.

"I won't get hurt, I can do anything you can." She sounded indignant.

"Can not."

"Can so."

"Whatever, I'm not gonna show you." Max scowled in annoyance when the teachers blew their whistles, signalling the end of recess. The stupid girls had made him lose out on half his playing time. So not fair!

Max went back inside to the classroom, Molly still trailing after him. While they were putting their coats away in their cubbies, Max whispered to his friend Tony, "How do I make Molly leave me alone? She's always bugging me."

"Just do what I did with Janet." Tony whispered back. Last week, Tony had pushed Janet off the slide after she'd been following him around all day. She hadn't talked to him since.

"I can't push her though, Ms. Quincy will see." Ms. Quincy was their teacher, but she was also Alexander's older sister, Elizabeth. At nineteen. Alex was the second oldest gang member in their group and he would definitely hear about it from his sister if Max pushed a girl.

"Then do something else." Tony thought for a minute before grinning. "Here." he pulled out a pack of gum from his coat pocket."

"What? Do I have bad breath?" Max asked, taking a piece.

Tony rolled his eyes. "No dummy. You're gonna chew it up and stick it in that gross hair she's always sucking on."

Max hesitated, knowing he'd get in trouble for that too. Before he could ask for a different suggestion though, Ms. Quincy told them to take their seats.

Max sat down at his desk, right behind Molly. Part of why he really didn't like her is that he was always forced to look at that icky bitten hair everyday. She put her hair back in her mouth, which was the final straw for Max. He started chewing on the gum, trying to be subtle because Ms. Quincy didn't let them have gum in class.

As they were all passing their math homework to the front of the room, Molly let her hair fall out of her mouth, leaving it hanging all nasty over his desk. Max snuck the gum out of his mouth, sticking it in the middle of her ponytail.

"What are you doing?" She asked, evidently feeling him tugging on her hair. When she ran her hand through it, she shrieked, feeling the gum that was now entangled in a good portion of her hair.

"What's going on?" Ms. Quincy came over, eyes widening when she saw the gum. "Max, did you do this?"

He bit his lip, shrugging and unable to make eye contact. Molly had started crying, which made him feel really bad. He didn't want to make her so sad, he just wanted her to stop bugging him.

Ms. Quincy sighed, looking disappointed, which made Max feel infinitely worse. "Linda, take Molly down to the nurse. We'll see if she can get that out of your hair." She said, clearly trying to calm the sobbing girl down. Max wanted to sink into the floor as Linda took Molly out and his teacher's attention was back on him.

"Max, you go sit in the back of the room until class is done." She ordered. Max pouted at that, not wanting to be sent back there. It was basically time out, and he hardly ever had to go sit at the desk alone by the back wall. Ms. Quincy was definitely gonna call Alex and her was gonna be all mad at him. But worse than that, he felt horrible about making Molly cry. He hoped they didn't have to cut off all her hair. She'd be real upset if she had nothing to chew on anymore.

Max grabbed his stuff, trudging to the back of the room as the rest of the class went back to learning their vocabulary words. Max tried to learn his words too, but couldn't concentrate, giving up long before class ended. He just folded his arms on his desk and laid his head on top of them, feeling terrible.

* * *

"Why are you being such a dick, dude?" Thomas complained, leaving the high school with Adam. The two had been bickering since lunch, when Adam told Tommy he would have to write his own English paper. The two were in separate classes, but they typically got the same assignments, so Adam would just do the work and then Tommy would copy him. Adam didn't normally mind. He liked reading the books and then writing about them. Thomas on the other hand couldn't stand reading when he could get away without doing it. And writing an essay was like torture to them. So Adam didn't normally mind their setup, but the last time they did it, they nearly got caught. Thomas had been a dumbass and had copied the essay practically word for word, rather than changing it up. Their teacher had made it clear in not so many words that he was fairly certain they'd cheated, and that he'd be on the lookout for it from now on.

"Are you joking? Tommy, you heard Mr. Morris last time. If we get caught again we're gonna be in deep shit. And I don't wanna go down just so you don't have to read a fuckin' book." Adam lit up a smoke, ignoring the dirty look he got from one of the teachers in the faculty parking lot. School was over and they were on the damned sidewalk.

Tommy rolled his eyes, leaning against a bike rack. "Come on man, Morris was bluffing. I changed enough words that he couldn't know I copied."

"Tom, he knew. He practically called me out on it. Besides, changing a couple of adjectives doesn't make the paper different enough."

"The fuck's an adjective?" Tommy looked confused. It was probably a disservice to the other teen that Adam had been doing his work for so long, he never really learned shit for himself.

"Nevermind. I just mean that you have to change the whole thing, not just a few words."

"If I'm gonna change it all, then I might as well just write the damned thing myself." Tommy looked at him like he thought Adam was the dumbass.

"That's exactly what I'm saying you should do." Adam smirked.

Tommy stood up straighter, looking annoyed. "The paper's due tomorrow. How the fuck do you expect me to write a whole essay about a book I didn't read in a day. I'm gonna fail it and then I'm gonna fail the class. Then I'm gonna kick your ass."

Adam snorted. "Not my fault, Tommy. I told you from the start that I'm not writing this for you."

"Well I didn't think you were serious! Can't you just write two different papers or something?" Tommy pleaded.

"Why would I do double the work? No chance." Adam felt for the guy, but at some point his friend had to stand on his own feet. Besides, he was sick of always being the one who did all the work. The fuck was he getting out of this setup?

"Fuck you, Ads. You're just gonna leave your best friend high and dry?" Tommy did his best kicked puppy expression that usually got him whatever he wanted. Adam stood firm, though.

"I warned you I wouldn't do it. You're the one who waited until the last minute to realize I wasn't fucking around. Just write some symbolic bullshit and take the D." Adam flicked the ash off of his cigarette, giving a cheeky wave to his gym teacher who scowled in his direction.

"If I get a D on this, I'm gonna have to go to summer school. That's the shittiest place in the world, not to mention Tim will be pissed as all hell."

"Look, I'll read over your paper for you. Make sure it's good enough for a C." Adam offered.

"If you're gonna read it, you should just write it." Tommy reasoned.

"I'm not gonna write it so just shut up about that." Adam was getting annoyed with the pestering. Tommy wasn't stupid, he was fully capable of reading a book and writing a paper if he ever bothered to give it any effort. But no, Adam had to hold his hand all the time so Tommy would never have to lift a finger or use a brain cell.

"You're such a jackass. And a shitty fuckin' friend." Tommy looked just as pissed as Adam felt.

"I'm the shitty friend? You're the one who's been piggy backing off of me for years. Learn how to do the work yourself, dickhead."

"Fuck you, if you hated it so much then why didn't you grow some balls years ago and tell me instead of fucking me over last minute?" Tommy tossed his bag on the ground, Adam following suit.

"I got plenty of balls. I just knew you were too fuckin' helpless to do shit on your own." Adam sneered.

"I'm not the helpless one, you little pussy. You're think you're so goddamn smart, but you're not shit." Tommy's fists were clenched, ready for a fight.

"I'm not shit? I got more of a brain than you, you son of a bitch. You ain't got two brain cells to rub together."

"I'd rather be a son of a bitch than a son of a whore." Tommy clearly regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. Adam's mother was a notorious prostitute in Tulsa and it had always been a sore subject for the teen.

Before Tommy could take it back, Adam's fist collided with his nose, blood gushing out instantly.

"Motherfucker!" Tommy exclaimed, before aiming a hit to Adam's gut. The two boys were rolling around within seconds while onlookers watched nervously.

Just when Adam was starting to get the upper hand, he felt a strong grip wrap around his bicep, pulling him off of Tommy. Both boys were held apart, despite their valiant effort to keep pummeling one another.

"What the fuck is going on?" Tim Shepard's voice hollered, giving each teen a shake.

The boys stopped fighting immediately, each turning their attentions nervously to their gang leader. They seemed surprised to see him, which was understandable as his job at the construction site normally went until about three and it was only two. But he'd gotten off early today to have some sorta parent teacher conference with Curly's teacher.

"Well? Anyone gonna tell me what's happening?" Tim's voice was like steel, and his grip got impossibly tighter.

"It's nothing." Tommy finally said, spitting some blood on the ground.

"Nothing? You two brawling in the street is nothing? If I hadna showed up, you'd have beaten each other into pulps." Tim released each boy, only to land a solid smack to both their asses. The teens turned bright red, Adam looking around to make sure no one had seen (several people clearly had) while Tommy just looked at the ground in embarrassment. "You two get your sorry asses home. I gotta go to some meeting, but you can bet I'll be home real soon to deal with you." He handed them their book bags and turned them in the direction of the Shepard house, swatting them each again to get them moving.

"There better not be another scrape on either of you when I get there, you hear me?" Tim hollered after them, the boys nodding there assent while practically jogging home.

* * *

Tim walked into the high school, still seething about his two idiot boys. Honestly, was there ever going to be a day where he didn't have to whoop someone's ass? His hand couldn't keep up with this shit. At this rate he was suffering more than any of the kids.

He walked into his younger brother's geometry class, not looking forward to hearing another lecture from some stuffy teacher about how Curly doesn't behave, doesn't do his work, can't play nice, yada yada yada. Curls has always had some sort of aversion to school. He doesn't like being told what to do, and usually won't do it on principle alone. Tim was the only person he really listened to, and even then it could be 50/50.

"Ah, you must be Charles' brother, Mr. Shepard. I'm Ms. Corey." Tim was startled to see a young, attractive woman in front of him. He understood why Curly's grades were shit, he wouldn't be able to concentrate with her teaching either. She couldn't be much older than him, and it did make him feel a bit old that someone his age could be a teacher.

"Sorry, but do you mind if I ask how old you are? It's just, I don't remember you from when I went here. And I think I'd remember a face like yours." He turned on the charm immediately, rewarded with a faint blush on her skin, although she seemed more amused than wooed.

"This is my first year teaching. Your brother, Charles, is my first official difficult student." She smiled, clearly steering them back on the track this conversation was supposed to be on.

Tim put on his best business face, following her suit as she sat behind her desk. He took a seat on one of the uncomfortable plastic student chairs across from her. God, these chairs brought back crappy memories. He'd always hated high school, had dropped out the day he turned sixteen, a fact that his gang always tried to use as reason for them wanting to drop out. All his guys were smart enough, they just hated having to sit in a boring classroom for six hours, learning shit they'll never really need to know again. Tim understood their disdain, not that he would ever let them follow in his footsteps and drop out. All of his guys were going to get their diplomas if he had to kick their asses all the way to the graduation ceremony.

"So, what's Curly done now?" Tim said, leaning back in his too small chair to get a good look at the young teacher in front of him. She looked smart, if people could really look smart. Maybe it was the fact that she just looked more put together than most girls he went out with. The tailored dress and neat updo weren't something his hookups typically had.

"It's more what he hasn't done, Mr. Shepard-"

"Tim." He said, blushing slightly after realizing he had interrupted her. "Uh, you can call me Tim."

He swore the corners of her mouth quirked up, but it was momentary.

"Alright, Tim, Charles has been having an issue with the coursework he's been assigned." She had a file in her hand that was practically empty, a good sign in Tim's book. Usually the files on his brother were overflowing.

"What's the issue?" Tim sat forward when she handed him the file.

"See for yourself." She said. He flipped through the small manilla folder. There were like five things in it, a couple of pieces of homework, mostly unfinished, and a few quizzes, all with decent marks.

"I don't get it. His grades on the tests look pretty good." Tim was relieved that for once it didn't seem like he was about to be told Curly had cussed someone out or decked a kid.

"Yes, he does well on the quizzes. The ones he shows up for at least. But he has only turned in two homework assignments all year. He hasn't done any of the assigned projects or group work. And he's missed far too many of my classes." Ms. Corey explained, causing Tim to wince. So there was the other shoe.

Curly was a pretty smart kid. He wasn't a genius or anything, but he was good at math and had a head on his shoulders. He just never wanted to use that head.

"What's his grade right now?" He was nervous to hear the answer.

Ms. Corey seemed a little hesitant to say as well, not a great sign. "He's currently failing the class. He has a 46%, which can be boosted up to a passing mark with a little extra work on his part." Curly wasn't gonna like the idea of extra work. Although Tim didn't particularly care what he liked at that moment.

"So what's he gotta do to fix this?" Tim sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He was gonna kill that kid for all the gray hairs he's giving him.

"He can start by making up the homework and the quizzes. If he does them within the next week, I won't take any points off. Charles is a good kid, I wouldn't want to make him go to summer school if he could avoid it." God fucking bless this woman for being reasonable. Most of the teachers Tim had encountered when dealing with Curly had been pretty enthusiastic about failing him.

"You're a saint, Ms. Corey. Thanks for cutting Curls some slack. I promise, you won't have any trouble from him again." Tim reached out to shake her hand, which she took with a much stronger grip than he'd expect.

"Lisa." She said, before flushing slightly. "I mean, Lisa is my name. You can call me that. If you want to." She stumbled over the words slightly.

"How about I call you that tomorrow night?" God, he knew he was being so damn corny, but she seemed to like it. "You wanna go to dinner with me?"

"I'm not sure it's appropriate… You're a parent of one of my students." She sounded like she wanted him to change her mind.

Tim scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm barely a parent. And I doubt there are any laws against two people getting dinner. I mean you gotta eat sometime, why not tomorrow with me. Curly won't mind." He wasn't sure if his brother would actually not mind, but the kid would get over any pissiness quick.

"Well, I suppose if it's just dinner…" She grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling onto it before folding it and handing it to him. "Here's my number."

Tim tucked it in his pocket, standing up. "I'll call you tonight and see you tomorrow." He shook her hand once more, which felt weird to do with a woman he'd just asked out, but she shook back without blinking. He turned and left, groaning when he remembered that he had two pain in the ass boys waiting at home for him.

* * *

Max stayed sitting in the back of the classroom even after all the other students had left to go home for the day. Molly had never come back to class, which made Max feel impossibly worse, knowing she was probably somewhere crying about what he had done.

Once the last child had been picked up by their parents, Ms. Quincy picked up the phone, dialing the number of her brother and Max's current nightmare, Alex. After a few rings the man clearly picked up as Max's teacher began speaking softly to him. Max slouched down further in his seat, knowing he was gonna get in trouble, but that wasn't even the reason he wished he hadn't done it. He felt like the biggest jerk in the world for making Molly cry. She was gross and annoying, but she was never mean. He was the mean one, apparently.

Ms. Quincy hung up the phone after her brief conversation. "Alexander is on his way, Max." She said, taking out some papers to grade at her desk. Max nodded, laying his head down on the desk to wait.

Alex took just ten minutes to get to the school, presumably coming from his or the Shepard's home. He worked at a local bar, but his shift wouldn't start until later that night. Tim always had him on designated babysitting duty for Max during the day, which was so dumb because Max wasn't a baby and could watch himself. If anything, the stupid older boys needed to be watched, they were the ones who did dumb stuff all the time. Although, the mess he was in today was pretty dumb.

When he arrived, Alex greeted his sister before going over to Max, who for his part was still sitting forlornly in the back of the room. Max refused to make eye contact with him, instead glaring at the math equations written in the chalk board. Alex kneeled in front of him with a soft sigh.

"Hey kid." He greeted, voice much gentler than Max was expecting in this situation, causing him to look up at the adult. Alex offered him a small, friendly smile. "Heard you had a pretty rough day."

Max bit his lip, shrugging and feeling like crying, but he wasn't a baby so he wouldn't cry just because he got in trouble and made a girl sad.

"Come on, tell me what happened." Alex grabbed the chair from the desk next to Max's, pulling it close to the boy. Max nearly laughed at how ridiculous the tall man looked in a too small third graders chair.

"You already know what happened." Max pointed out, resting his chin on his fist. "Ms. Quincy musta told you."

"Well I want you to tell me." Alex reached out, giving one of Max's blonde curls a playful tug.

Max fiddled with some loose paper on his desk, looking down. "I put gum in Molly's hair."

Alex waited a moment, but when Max said no more he prompted, "Why'd you do that?"

"She was buggin' me. Wouldn't leave me alone at recess." Max wrinkled his nose. "Plus I don't like her hair. I think it might got cooties."

Alex looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh by putting on a fake serious face. "It might have cooties." he corrected.

Max's eyes widened. "I'm right? It's got cooties?" Oh god, he had touched it when he put the gum in. Now he was gonna die from girl germs.

This time Alex apparently couldn't stop the laugh, although he covered it with a cough. "No, I was saying it's 'have' not 'got'." He shook his head, clearly realizing Max's grammar wasn't the most important thing right then. "So you put the gum in her hair to make her leave you alone?"

"Yeah, I didn't want her following me around anymore." Although he sorta wished he had just told her to stop instead of listening to Tony about the gum.

"Was she being mean when she'd follow you around?"

"No, she was just always askin' questions. And wanting me to show her how to do stuff."

"Max buddy, it sounds like this girl might've had a crush on you." Alex pointed out, looking way too amused by that idea.

"No way, she's just a dumb girl. She liked bugging me." Max rolled his eyes. Grown ups could be so dumb sometimes. Girls were just annoying, that didn't mean they liked you.

Alex still looked like he thought he was right, which he so wasn't. After a moment he seemed to get himself together and put on a more serious face. "Even if she was bugging you, you shouldn't have ruined her hair like that."

Max looked down, feeling bad again. "I know, I wish I hadna done that." He hated how upset she had looked when she felt the gum in her hair.

"Then you need to tell her that. I want you to write an apology note and give it to her tomorrow." Alex said. "And it's gotta be a nice one too."

"Aw, come on!" Max immediately groaned. "I don't wanna do that, that's so embarrassing."

"You're doing it. It's the least you owe that girl after making her get her cut off."

Max's eyes widened. "They had to cut her hair off?"

"Lizzie said the nurse couldn't get it out so it had to be cut off." Max felt impossibly worse at that. He hadn't meant to ruin her hair, just to make her freak out a little and leave him alone.

"Alright, I'll write the dumb note." He agreed, feeling really bad. Poor Molly. He was the mean one, not her.

Alex patted him on the back, grabbing the kid's backpack and standing up. "Alright, go say sorry to Liz and we can go."

Max went to the front of the room, standing in front of his teacher's desk, looking down at his shoes. "Sorry, Ms. Quincy. I shouldna ruined her hair like that." He wasn't sure if his voice was audible with how he mumbled the words, but she smiled nicely at him anyway, like she understood.

"That's alright, Max. I hope you give Molly an apology as well."

"He will." Alex promised, coming up behind Max and smiling at his sister. "We'll see you later, Lizzie."

As they left the classroom Max turned to look at Alex. "Do you really think Molly's got a crush on me?"

"If she does then you need to be really nice to her. Act like a little gentleman with her."

"A gentleman? What's that?" Max furrowed his brows.

"It's a nice boy who treats girls right. You don't wanna act mean to her when she likes you." Alex unlocked the car, tossing Max's bag in the back.

"But what if I don't like her back?" Max attempted to get in the passenger seat but was shooed away to the back of the car.

Alex gave him a slightly knowing smile. "Then you tell her that. But usually when a boy pulls a girl's hair, or puts gum in it in this case, it's because they like her."

Max glared at the back of his head as he buckled up. "I do not, shut up."

"Alright, if you don't, you don't. But if you do, that's okay too." Alex started the car.

"I don't." Max insisted again.

Alex nodded, but he still had that stupid smile on his face. "Of course you don't."

* * *

Tim stood on the porch outside his home, taking a moment to breathe deeply and gather his thoughts. He didn't hear screaming and brawling inside, which was a good sign. Tommy and Adam were usually good friends, but they did tend to fight more than the other boys. They were both hot headed jackasses sometimes. Tim wasn't a pacifist by any means, but he didn't like his boys fighting at all. At least not when it wasn't in good fun.

He opened the door, walking into their living room. Adam and Tommy weren't in there, but Justin was. The teen was sprawled out on the couch, looking like he was pretending to do homework, but had clearly just been watching television. The TV still had a slight static glow around it and Justin was holding his textbook upside down.

"Hey, you better be done with that shit before doing anything else." Tim said taking the book and turning it the right way before handing it back to him. Justin had gotten in trouble at school the other day for being over a week late on turing in some book report. None of his boys were the best students, which meant Tim got the unpleasant task of being up their asses about homework constantly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting it done." Justin said, making a face as he began to reluctantly read the boring information.

"I wanna see that done by dinner." Tim ordered, heading towards the bedroom Thomas and Adam shared. It was technically a guest room, but Thomas had laid claim to it ever since he was a little kid, and Adam had taken over the other twin bed in it years ago.

Tim could hear voices talking quietly inside the room. They immediately stopped when Tim knocked briefly on the door before entering. He looked between the two boys, each seated on Adam's bed and refusing to look at him. He was not looking forward to being the bad guy again, so soon after Angela.

"Alright, who's gonna spill it? What the hell happened at the school?" Tim crossed his arms, giving them his best stern expression. It had the desired effect of making them look even guiltier. Tim didn't want the boys to be scared of him, but he liked knowing that he could pull off intimidation when the need arose.

"It was my fault." Thomas said, looking down at the floor. "I wanted Adam to let me copy his paper for English and got pissed when he wouldn't." He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. "I said some shitty stuff about his mom too, which is why he hit me." The teen glanced at his friend, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, man, shouldn't have called her that."

Adam shrugged, not making eye contact. He was clearly still pissed, but didn't wanna get the other boy in too much trouble by harping on it.

"What'd you say about his mother?" Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

"I, uh, kinda called her a name." Tommy mumbled. At Tim's raised eyebrow, he added, "I mighta called her a whore."

"Thomas Jeremy Kelly, excuse me? You said that shit about your brother's mom?" Tim didn't tolerate his guys fighting, but he also didn't like them talking smack about one another. Or their families.

"I know, it was a dick move. Ads, I'm so sorry. You were right to deck me. If you wanna take another swing right now, go ahead."

"No one is taking another swing." Tim quickly stepped in, although Adam didn't look like he was about to take the other kid up on the offer.

Tim pointed a finger at Tommy. "You are in some deep shit for talking like that. And for trying to copy Adam's paper." He turned the pointer finger on Adam, "And you are in trouble for throwing the first punch."

Both teens immediately began to protest, but were silenced by Tim's glare. "Tommy, you first." He said, sitting on the bed across from them.

"Aw come on, Tim, you don't need to do that." Tommy whined, scooting back on the bed, further away from the man.

"I sure as hell do. You two both broke my rules today. Don't pretend you didn't know this was coming if you got caught." Tim patted his knee. "Now come here."

"At least not in front of each other." Tommy had stood and shuffled over to stand in front of his gang leader.

Tim scoffed at the argument. "You're fine, Thomas. Not the first time you've been whooped in front of each other and I'm sure it won't be the last." He reached out and undid the zipper on Tommy's jeans, tugging them down before pulling him across his lap. The teen was tall, although he was still quite a bit shorter than Tim's own frame, which made the position more of a challenge. Tim missed the days when the guys were twelve and could be easily maneuvered. He used to be able to carry around three of them at once, slung across his shoulders and tucked under his arms.

Tim wrapped an arm around Tommy's waist, anchoring him firmly. He then yanked the teen's boxers down, ignoring Tommy's grumble of protest.

Tommy was squirming immediately once the swats began, legs jerking in response. "Tim, lighten up, will you?" he complained.

"You don't get to act like you did today and then tell me to lighten up." Tim did the opposite of the request, swatting him slightly harder.

Adam had averted his eyes and was busy staring at the wall to his side rather than focus on what's happening in front of him. It always sucked getting your ass kicked in front of someone, but it sucked almost as much to be the person witnessing.

Tommy's ass was beginning to turn red and he was starting to feel the burn. God, he hated this shit. Why was Tim such a hardass about everything? And why did he have such a strong hand? It was pure evil.

"Tim, I'm sorry, alright? I shouldna called his mom that and I shouldna tried to cheat. It was fuckin' dumb." Tommy made an attempt to get out of this before he wouldn't be able to sit for a week.

"Yeah, it was dumb. You boys don't get to fight. You don't get to cheat. And you don't talk to your friend like that. I taught you better than that, TJ." It was the old nickname that made Tommy start to cry. He hated to disappoint Tim, who was like an older brother to him. And he knew he had hurt his best friend with his cheapshot insult earlier.

Tim tilted him forward, spanking his previously untouched sit spots and thighs. Tommy hollered at that, sobbing. "I'm sorry!" he promised.

Tim finally stopped, switching from smacking the kid's backside to rubbing his back. "Alright, I know you are." He pulled the teen's boxers back up, helping Tommy stand.

Tommy immediately kicked his jeans fully off, having no interest in letting the denim touch his ass. Tim smiled slightly, pulling Tommy back towards him and into a hug. "You're okay, Champ. It's all done." He ran a hand through the youth's hair. Tommy clung to him, hugging him back fiercely.

"I won't do it again." Tommy said, voice muffled by his face being pressed against Tim's neck.

"I know, you're a good kid." Tim assured him, giving him a brief kiss to the top of his head. "Lay down so me and Ads can have a chat, then this'll all be done." His hand throbbed when he remembered he still had to deal with Adam. Three hard asses in one day. He was definitely gonna need to use some frozen peas on his palm.

Tommy removed himself from Tim's hold, going to lay down on his bed, turning his head away so he didn't have to watch Adam get his ass kicked.

"Alright Addy, come on and drop 'em." Tim ordered, sitting on Adam's bed.

Adam came over without much fight, he was never one Tim would have much trouble with when trying to punish him. He shoved his jeans down, bending immediately over Tim's lap, bracing himself for the onslaught of swats.

Tim didn't lower Adam's boxers like he did with Tommy. In his eyes, although Adam had thrown the first punch, Tommy had still caused the most trouble and was punished a little harsher for it.

Adam yelped when the first smack landed, but then attempted to remain quiet for the next dozen or so. He wasn't a fan of showing that it was hurting, unlike some of the other members of their gang. When Tim began his second volley of spanks all over his ass, Adam bit down on his lip to keep from hollering.

Tim sighed when Adam went silent, realizing he was stifling his cries. He paused momentarily in his spanking to pat Adam gently on the back once. "Bud, don't do that to your lip, you'll make it bleed."

Adam gave a slightly tearful laugh, but released his bottom lip from his teeth's grip. "Yeah, wouldn't want me to be in any pain, huh?"

Tim resisted the urge to smile and instead continued with lighting a fire on his ass. Adam began hollering now that he didn't have a way to stop himself.

After just a dozen or so more smacks, most of which he aimed to the teen's thighs, Tim stopped. He had gone fairly easy on him, mostly because he understood acting out like Adam had when your mother had been insulted. Not that Tim particularly cared if his own deadbeat mother was insulted, but he understood the anger in theory.

Adam stood up, taking a step back initially to wipe his face and try to compose himself. Tim rolled his eyes, snagging Adam's wrist and tugging him in close for a hug. "I know it sucks when someone talks like that about someone you care for, but you gotta work on controlling that temper." Tim said softly to him, Adam nodding against his chest. "You especially gotta control it when it's your best friend talkin' like that, because you know he would never really mean it."

"I'm sorry, Adam, I shouldna talked shit like that. It was a low move." Tommy spoke up from his bed, clearly having heard Tim talking.

"It's alright, I shouldn't have hit you." Adam shrugged. "Even if you were being an ass."

"We cool?" Tommy asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, we're cool. As long as you quit harassing me about that stupid paper." Adam grinned, flopping face down on his own bed.

"Tommy, you better write that damn thing tonight. And it better be damn good too, I won't have you in summer school. Again." Tim pointed a finger at him.

"I know, it'll get done." Tommy sounded none too happy about it.

Tim turned and left the room. From the otherside of the door he heard Tommy's voice asking, "You'll still proofread it, right Ads? Because you know I don't know shit about Moby fuckin' Dick."

"Course I will. It ain't hard, just talk about some stupid symbolism shit." Adam's voice. Tommy clearly must've looked confused because Adam added, "Symbolism's when shit has two meanings."

There was a pause and Tim was about to walk away when he heard Tommy say, "You'll still write my papers in other classes, right?"

Tim shook his head, knowing that was a battle for another day. He turned away, going downstairs to figure out what sorta shit his other boys had gotten into today. He still needed to talk to Curly about his grades, and break the news about him dating the kid's teacher. God help him, that one was gonna end in at least one of them screaming.


End file.
